


Visiting the Family

by KatieComma



Series: Mac and Stiles Are Cousins - Hilarity Ensues [1]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Double Date - Kinda, Established Relationship, Fluff, Interrupted Sex, M/M, Vacation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:20:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24084994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieComma/pseuds/KatieComma
Summary: Mac has a cousin (distant cousin on his mom’s side) in Northern California. He’s been invited to come stay at the family cabin and bring his boyfriend.Jack’s excited to meet more of Mac’s family, and it’ll be nice to have a vacation together.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Jack Dalton/Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Series: Mac and Stiles Are Cousins - Hilarity Ensues [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954273
Comments: 163
Kudos: 178





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rai_Knightshade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rai_Knightshade/gifts).



> Thanks for the prompt Rai! But I just couldn’t choose. So have a bit of both!

Jack took another corner on the little dirt road, the GTO skidding a little in the dirt.

“You sure this is gonna be alright, hoss?” Jack asked.

Mac looked over from the passenger side. “They _invited us_ , Jack. Of course it’s ok.”

“Well, they invited us to come on up tomorrow,” Jack said. “Are you sure it’s alright that we’re coming a day early?”

“Absolutely,” Mac said. “It’s the family cabin. Worst that will happen is that maybe someone else is here and you’ll get to meet even more of my family.”

“I could be on board for that,” Jack said, warmth growing in his chest. He loved these little secrets that Mac let go year after year as they became closer and closer. It hadn’t changed when they’d become more. Mac hadn’t just burst with secrets and let them all out. He continued to give them away like crumbs, like he thought that no one would care about these little things that meant so much to him.

When Mac had told Jack they’d be spending two weeks at the family cabin with his cousin, Jack had been overjoyed. The only family of Mac’s he’d met so far was James, and Henry back before he’d passed. So there was a 50/50 history of total assholes and saints. Jack was curious to see how this cousin of Mac’s fit in. They weren’t true cousins, but somewhere distantly related on Mac’s mom’s side and from the way Mac talked about him, Jack didn’t think he would be on the asshole end of the spectrum.

“This is gonna be great!” Mac said, sitting forward on the bench seat as Jack took a turn onto an even smaller dirt road with a wooden sign that had the site number carved into it. “I spent a bunch of time here during the summers growing up. My mom loved it out here. The property’s been in the family forever. I don’t even know who actually owns it anymore.”

Jack didn’t want to ask too much, but he was curious and as the car crunched over well-worn dirt he turned and watched Mac’s eyes light up with every corner they turned. “Your mom died when you were pretty young though. Did your dad bring you out here?”

Mac shook his head, and didn’t look over at Jack, just kept watching out the windshield. “My grandfather. Told me it was a good way to stay in touch with my mom and her family. He was right. It’s been way too long since I’ve been here.” He paused and glanced at Jack. “Lost touch, you know? Haven’t seen my cousin in such a long time. We were close when we were younger.” He returned his eyes to the road in front of them, and Jack didn’t ask anymore questions.

Finally the trees fell away and they came into a little clearing just big enough for the cabin, a smaller sleeping cabin, and a path through the forest that led down to the lake.

“Ok, I’m sold,” Jack said with a grin.

“Told you it was great,” Mac said. “And no cell service, which is going to be awesome.”

Jack pulled up next to a shitty-looking old blue Jeep and threw the car into park before he relaxed back into the driver’s seat. “Looks like someone beat us here.”

“Maybe they decided to come a few days early,” Mac said, jumping out of the car and rushing back to the trunk to grab their bags.

“They?” Jack asked, as he grabbed the case of beer and few groceries bags while Mac hefted their luggage.

“Yeah,” Mac led him toward the door at the side of the cabin. “I told you. He’s bringing his boyfriend. Gonna make it a couples vacation thing.”

“Right,” Jack said.

Mac reached the door and threw it open, fumbling with the luggage, and stopped in the middle of the doorway, dropping Jack’s duffel bag.

“Dude, what the hell?” Jack almost bumped into Mac at the same time Mac yelled: “Stiles! What the hell?”

Jack peeked over Mac’s shoulder and saw two naked bodies scrambling on the couch. A wiry, pale brunette crawled out of the lap of another pale brunette, this one more heavily muscled.

They had been having a very, very good time.

Blankets were pulled off the back of the couch, but they were of a loose homemade knit and didn’t leave much to the imagination.

“Angus?” The wiry guy(Stiles) asked. “You said you weren’t coming in until tomorrow. I thought you’d said tomorrow. Otherwise we definitely wouldn’t have been...” he waved his hand between him and his boyfriend, who was now at the opposite end of the couch. As though it wouldn’t be obvious what they’d been doing if they were far apart. “I mean I definitely... I had a big welcome prepared and everything. I even bought a banner and I-”

The boyfriend finally spoke up, his voice deep, flat and unreadable. “He did. It’s a shiny silver banner.” He swallowed hard. “I was going to help him hang it up.”

“See!” Stiles pointed at his boyfriend. “Way to go dude! I had this big welcome planned! And this was definitely not the welcome I had planned and I...” He looked down and adjusted the blanket so he wasn’t trying to poke through it, and then put his hand overtop for extra coverage.

Jack was giggling, and grabbed Mac’s shirt to pull him back out of the doorway.

“Listen boys, what say me and _Angus_ here run back into town and pick up some... steaks for dinner,” Jack said, tugging on Mac’s shirt a little harder. “We’ll be back in say, 40 minutes or so? If that gives you enough time to...” He coughed dramatically. “Hang that banner.” He barked a little laugh.

“No you don’t need to-” Stiles started, but his boyfriend cut him off.

“Yes. Thank you,” he said. “Forty minutes is lots of time.”

Jack winked at him, before he hauled Mac back out of the cabin.

Mac who seemed to be in total shock.

“So that was Stiles, huh?” Jack asked as they climbed back into the car. “Little more of him than I thought I’d see.”

Mac started laughing hysterically as Jack backed the car out and started back down the winding dirt road. “More of him than I wanted to see too.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac and Jack come back from grabbing groceries and everybody finally gets introductions that don't include nudity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok guys. This is happening I guess. The muse loves this story and just wants to play with it.
> 
> Advanced warning: I have 0 actual plan for this thing... right now I'm just rolling with the punches.
> 
> Also: this is coming out in random Point of Views. POV won't change within a chapter, but each chapter will probably switch to someone else.

The creak of the cabin door sounded, and Stiles bolted back to the main room.

Angus and his boyfriend were back, grocery bags in hand.

Stiles flailed dramatically at the banner hanging in the little living room. On the couch, Derek uncrossed his legs and put his book aside.

“Wow, there really is a banner,” Angus said, looking up at the shiny silver foil banner.

The banner had originally said “Happy Birthday,” but Stiles had taken a permanent marker to it, and changed it to “Happy Vacation” instead. It was so much like something they would have done together as kids; Stiles hoped he’s appreciate it.

Angus stared at the banner, his face splitting into a huge smile, before his eyes trailed down to Stiles and nostalgia lit his eyes. “Thanks,” he said softly.

Stiles rushed over and pulled him into a hug. They were both skinny(family trait) and their limbs tangled together familiarly despite years away from each other. Stiles took it as a good sign. He clapped Angus hard on the back. “Thanks for coming dude. This is gonna be a blast.”

Derek stood up from the couch, the old springs squeaking, and stood awkwardly behind them. Stiles let him stew a little longer than he probably would have normally, but he could feel Derek’s unease at the strangers invading his space and wanted to torture his boyfriend/mate/whatever they were, a little longer.

Stiles leaned back and nodded to Angus, patting him on the shoulders. “This is gonna be awesome.”

Finally Derek gave in and coughed quietly.

“Oh, right!” Stiles fumbled as though he wasn’t doing it on purpose; Derek knew better. “This is my boyfriend, Derek.” He stepped back so they could shake hands. “Derek, this is my cousin Angus.”

They shook hands, and Angus’ boyfriend snickered behind him.

“It’s uh, Mac,” Angus said. “Everybody just calls me Mac these days.” He looked at Stiles. “You of all people can understand the stigma of an awkward first name.”

Stiles laughed. “You bet I can. Mac it is. Just don’t be too hard on me if I slip up.”

“Promise,” Mac said. He stepped aside a little so they could get a bit of a better look at his boyfriend. “And this is Jack.”

Stiles held out his hand to shake, but Jack opened his arms wide instead. “Naw, you’re family man. Bring it in.”

Jack didn’t wait for Stiles to step forward, instead rushing him and gathering him into a giant awesome bear hug. He could almost hear Derek growling possessively behind him. Jack let him go and looked to Derek, who was scowling.

“You don’t seem much like a hugger,” Jack conceded with narrowed eyes. “Put ‘er there partner.”

Derek raised an eyebrow and took Jack’s hand in a firm grip. They stood like that for a minute, both of their knuckles turning white as they had some kind of silent power battle. Stiles looked at Mac, who didn’t look worried in the least, just curious. But then he didn’t know that Derek was a werewolf, who could be possessive and violent on occasion.

Finally they came to some kind of silent agreement, their hands breaking apart, and respectful smiles crossing their faces.

“Alright boys,” Jack said, turning to grab the bags of groceries he’d left on the floor. “I got some nice T-bones, and I’m gonna teach you boys to barbecue the perfect steak tonight. I also picked up an extra case of beer on account’a the awkward evening we’re going to have due to the incident we definitely didn’t witness upon arrival.”

Mac’s cheeks flushed red for just a moment before he swallowed his embarrassment down and moved to grab the case of beer. “The beer fridge still out back?” Mac asked, pointing toward the laundry room.

“You got it,” Stiles said.

Mac went to the back to load the fridge, and Stiles’ eye was drawn to Jack. Mac’s boyfriend was a lot older than Stiles had expected. Like… a lot older. The guy must have been in his late 40’s. He probably had a good fifteen years on Mac. Not that he wasn’t a good looking guy. The silver in his buzzed down faux hawk and scruffy beard were actually really attractive. And Stiles could understand the appeal of an older guy; Derek was 6 years his senior after all. As Jack opened the cupboards and the fridge in the kitchen and put things away, the muscles that stretched as his old worn t-shirt were pretty appealing.

Derek stepped directly into Stiles’ line of sight. “Are you done?” He asked softly, his voice a little dangerous; not the fun kind of dangerous. His eyes flashed possessively.

“Done what? I wasn’t doing anything at all.”

Derek raised an eyebrow and took another step closer. “You mean staring lewdly at your cousin’s boyfriend is nothing at all?” He whispered. “I’m tempted to get you a pillow to cover up,” he flicked at the front of Stiles’ jeans for emphasis, even though there was nothing going on down there to flick.

“Oh stop being so possessive and dramatic sourwolf,” Stiles grinned. He leaned in and dropped a soft kiss on Derek’s cheek. “You know there’s only one alpha for me.” And then, before he stepped away, he teasingly added: “Plus, you can’t blame me. He’s wicked hot.”

Derek did growl at that, but it was the fun kind of growl, and Stiles saw a flash of a wild grin before he turned his attention back to Jack.

“So, Jack,” Stiles leaned on the kitchen counter. “Tell us a little about yourself. And don’t leave out any embarrassing stories about Angus - damnit - Mac along the way, ok?”

“You bet dude,” Jack smiled as he finished stacking the meat up in the fridge. It looked like he may have actually bought enough meat to feed a hungry werewolf. “I would never leave out the embarrassing stuff. That’s the best part.” He leaned on the counter, all perfect cowboy swagger in everything he did. “But first I gotta ask: what in the hell kind of name is Stiles?”

Stiles nodded his head. He’d talked about it so often, he barely needed to even think about explaining. “I was named after my Polish grandfather, and the name’s a bit unconventional. So I just go by Stiles. It’s easier. Even my dad calls me Stiles.”

Derek stood next to Stiles. He didn’t sit on any of the stools at the counter, and he didn’t lean. He just stood, arms crossed, always trying to be the imposing alpha.

“Well you and Mac share that in common I guess,” Jack grinned conspiratorially. “So what’s your first name?”

Derek beat him to it. “Mieczysław,” he said, pronouncing it perfectly: mee-chee-swahv. It sent a shiver down Stiles’ spine the same way it did whenever Derek said his first name. Usually it was reserved for more… private situations. And of course Derek had done it on purpose. 

Stiles narrowed his eyes at his stupid mate before returning his gaze to Jack. “Yup. Just like that.”

“Huh, that is a mouthful,” Jack said.

Stiles’ grin tried to turn to a grimace at the word choice and a laugh bubbled out of Derek.

Mac returned from the beer fridge with one in hand for everyone. “To getting over the awkward arrival,” he said as he cracked the can and held it up to knock against everyone else's.

“Amen,” Stiles said before guzzling back half the beer.

When the silence grew a little awkward, Stiles filled it the way he always felt compelled to do.

“So we took your bags and moved them to the sleeping cabin,” he said, motioning in the direction of the smaller cabin with his half-empty can. “Thought you might enjoy sleeping in the old kid’s cabin again. But if you want, we can switch. You can take the main room here. I just thought that might be fun. But we took your bags out there already. Well Derek did, mostly Derek. He’s a good bellhop that way. I should get him one of those little hats.”

Mac laughed.

“What?” Stiles asked.

“You haven’t changed a bit man,” Mac replied, “it’s great. And the sleeping cabin sounds awesome. Just like when I was a kid.”

“Why don’t you guys go out there and get settled,” Derek suggested. “And then maybe a quick swim before we start dinner?”

Jack came out from behind the counter. “Before _I_ start dinner cowboy,” he said. “I ain’t lettin’ nobody else near those steaks. You can watch if you want, but no touching.”

“Awesome,” Stiles said. “Meet down at the lake whenever you guys are ready?”

“Yeah, it’ll be relaxing after the drive. Wash away the road,” Mac said. He tipped his can back to finish it before heading for the door with Jack.

They didn’t really touch each other, Stiles noticed. Not the way that Derek and Stiles were always casually touching; they renewed their bond to each other constantly with fingers brushing a forearm, or shoulders jostling. But Mac and Jack walked casually side by side without any touches. Stiles hoped they were ok, that there weren’t any problems in paradise. Mac hadn’t said anything.

The minute they were out of earshot Stiles rolled his eyes at Derek. “Are you going to be an obnoxious killjoy the entire time they’re here? Why do you always get so defensive around new people?”

Derek’s macho alpha look faded once they were alone. He followed Stiles back to their bedroom in the little one-floor cabin. “I don’t trust strangers,” he said softly.

“Well, they’re not strangers, Mac’s my cousin dude. Get over it.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac and Jack head out to their cabin to settle in and get ready for a swim.
> 
> They discuss first impressions.

“I just hate lying to people, even when they’re close family,” Mac admitted as they climbed the stairs up from the uneven hilly ground into the little sleeping cabin. “It’s hard not to let my guard down around people. Especially when I just want to relax.”

“I know man, I get you, but that’s the job,” Jack replied, the weight of his words implying a lifetime of learning the hard way.

They opened the door on a cabin that smelled like it had been closed up for a long time; which made sense since most of the kids in the family were grown. And they didn’t really get together for gatherings out at the cabin like they used to. Everyone was spread too thin for big trips together. It never worked out. So Mac suspected the sleeping cabin, traditionally for the kids, had been closed up for a while.

There was one main room, with an old homemade plywood bookshelf full of ancient board games, a love seat, and a table and chairs. At the back of the cabin were two rooms. When Mac was a kid the rooms had both had bunk beds. Now one of them held a Queen bed instead.

Their stuff had been left in the kid’s room, Mac’s bag on the top bunk, and Jack’s on the bottom.

“Ha ha Stiles, very funny,” Mac said as he scooped up their luggage and moved it to the Queen room.

Jack came up behind him and slipped his arms around Mac’s middle. He returned to their original conversation. “You may not be able to be honest with everyone, but at least you can be honest with me,” Jack said softly into his ear. “Most agents don’t get to go home with another agent. Most can’t say anything to anybody but their team. But you can always be yourself with me.” He kissed Mac’s neck softly, stubble rubbing there. “Always.” And then he tacked on, a smile in his voice: “Angus.”

Mac smacked his hands and turned in his grip, kissing him passionately, lips opening, tongues meeting. But it was brief and Mac backed off quickly. “Ok, that’s enough of that or we’ll never get down to the lake.”

Jack stepped back and looked around the little cabin. “Well at least we got a little place to call our own,” he said. “Separated from the main cabin by just enough distance that if you’re really quiet we can be naughty at night.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively. Repeatedly.

Mac opened Jack’s bag and dug around for his swim trunks. “That’s assuming we don’t tire you out during the day, old man,” he said as he threw the trunks at Jack, hitting him square in the face. "Besides, I'm not the loud one."

“Old man,” Jack grumbled as he changed into his trunks. “We’ll see about that. I’ll show you old man.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Jack retreat to the cabin to start dinner and have a bit of a heart to heart.
> 
> As much of a heart to heart as Derek is capable with a near-stranger... which equates to Jack doing a LOT of the talking.

Derek followed Jack up to the cabin to help with dinner while Stiles and Mac continued to splash around in the lake reliving their childhood together. Derek smiled, but didn't let Jack see it. It was nice to see Stiles relaxing and having fun. Not that Stiles didn’t do that a lot normally, but he didn’t have a lot of family left, and it was great to see him with someone he had childhood memories with other than Scott.

“They do seem to be havin’ a good time, don’t they?” Jack asked as he held open the screen door when they reached the cabin; an old fashioned gentleman. “Couple’a idiots just bein’ idiots.”

“Oh, so yours is an idiot too?” Derek asked with a smirk and a raised eyebrow as he walked through the open door.

“Come on! You spent a few hours with the dude and you can't tell he’s an idiot already?” Jack scoffed as he followed Derek inside.

Sometimes it was hard to have a stranger at his back, but he’d felt oddly at ease with Mac and Jack since the moment they’d met. Well… met properly and not when he was naked with Stiles on the couch. Despite his defensiveness at first, which was more habit than instinct, he really did feel comfortable with them.

The cabin was a little stuffy from the hot day, and Derek went around opening windows to try to get a breeze through. A whiff of his and Stiles’ “activities” caressed him as he passed the couch and he was glad they weren’t vacationing with other werewolves. He sucked in a bigger breath than he should have through his nose and smiled a little, at the old scent of sweat and arousal.

“What’s on your mind cowboy?” Jack asked as he unloaded the fridge.

“What do you mean?” Derek asked.

“Must’a been somethin’ good to make you smile like that.” Jack winked and then returned his attention to the steaks as he unwrapped them.

Derek didn’t answer, but let the smirk creep back up on his face. He let his werewolf hearing wander from the room he was in, back out to the lake. It was habit to make sure he could hear Stiles’ heartbeat, make sure he was safe. And there it was: the racing pulse that accompanied his shouting as he splashed in the shallows with Mac.

“Mama always says to leave a steak in the fridge a few days after it’s been cut,” Jack said. “Tastes better when it’s been aged a bit. Unfortunately we ain’t got time for that. I’m on vacation and I want a steak for dinner.”

Derek smiled in a way he hoped was kindly as he settled stiffly on one of the stools near the kitchen counter.

“Why, exactly, do you always walk around like you got a big stick up your butt dude?” Jack asked blatantly. “I mean, you got some swagger when you walk, I’ll give you that, but whenever you’re just standin’ you look like you’re preparing to be attacked.”

Derek frowned. Did he really look like that? Stiles told him he’d gotten better since they’d met. That he’d been more relaxed, especially since they’d gotten together. He concentrated again and heard the comforting thump thump thump of Stiles’ heart.

“It’s all good man. If you don’t want to talk about it I understand,” Jack said. “You don’t seem to talk much at all. Which is fine. I do plenty talkin’ for two people. Probably enough for three or four if I’m honest.” He leaned forward onto his forearms, across the counter toward Derek. And Stiles wasn’t wrong: the guy was pretty hot, the corded muscles in his forearms ropey and lithe. “Listen, if it’s about this afternoon: I’m sorry about that. I told Mac he should’a called first. But it’s no big deal.” He stood back up and dug around in the cupboards until he found some plates and set them next to the trays of meat. “Come on man, it’s a natural act between a man and the person he loves. Ain’t nothin’ wrong about it.” Then he grinned as he kept his focus on the meat that he was sprinkling with salt and pepper. “And I always say you can tell a lot about a man from the way he knocks boots you know. Learned a little bit about both of you before I even heard a word out of your mouths.”

“Like what?” Derek asked, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but tone defensive. The words had popped out of his mouth before he’d even been able to think about it. Stiles was rubbing off on him, and not just in the good ways.

“Well now,” Jack said absently as he flipped the steaks onto the plates and started seasoning the other side. “First off: although you are the tall, dark, brooding, intimidating one, he’s the boss.”

Derek barked a short laugh. “Stiles? Stiles Stilinski?” He motioned toward the lake where he could still hear Stiles’ heartbeat going strong. “Have you met Stiles?”

“I surely have, yes sir,” Jack said as he rubbed the spices into the steaks. His hands looked worn and weathered, like they’d seen a lot. Derek wondered what he did, what he’d done in his life to get hands like that. “Don’t change my opinion none. That man could tell you to jump off a cliff and you wouldn’t even ask why.”

Derek felt sobered suddenly. It was true. Though Jack didn’t know that jumping off a cliff wouldn’t kill Derek, and if Stiles asked him to do it there would be a really good reason.

“See?” Jack asked. He was looking at Derek. When had he stopped paying attention to the steaks and started looking at Derek? Jack grinned. “Told you. You got it bad boy.”

Derek just nodded. And a barrier had broken between them. An ease settled in the room.

“I know,” Derek said simply.

“Was it some of that love at first sight nonsense?” Jack asked, looking genuinely interested as he took a dash of sugar from the bowl by the coffee pot and sprinkled it on the steaks.

Stiles’ heartbeat thundered out of control down at the lake; a heartbeat of joy.

“Yeah, I think it was,” Derek answered. Love at first sight. He’d fought it so hard at first. But the very first minute he’d ever seen Stiles, scented his fear that day in the forest, and watched his mouth go slack with uncertainty, Derek had known.

“Me too,” Jack said. “Punched him in the face the day I met him.”

“No!” Derek smiled and found himself leaning forward on the counter. There was something magnetic about Jack Dalton. He was a storyteller, and he pulled people in. Even Derek who thought he was immune to such charms.

“You bet I did,” Jack smiled, his eyes going distant with memory before he turned back to what he was doing and flipped the steaks one more time to add some more sugar. “I think I’d best save that story for over dinner though. Don’t want to tell it twice, and I just know Stiles will want to hear it too.”

“He absolutely will,” Derek answered.

“You wanna go get that grill started for me?” Jack asked. “Cause that’s about all the helpin’ I’m gonna let you do.”

“Sure,” Derek said. He dug the matches out of the drawer in the kitchen, and wondered just when he’d become so comfortable in Stiles’ family cabin. He couldn’t ever remember not feeling like it was a little piece of his own history. He wandered out and started the finicky barbecue in one try, and then stood on deck overlooking the lake and watched Stiles splash happily with Mac. It was like a snapshot back in time. These two men, allowed to be boys again for a time. It made Derek happy beyond belief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok guys... this thing... I love it... but I have no idea what it is.
> 
> Fair warning that I have NO plan for this fic... and I'm just muddling through and writing fun stuff that fits.
> 
> ON THAT NOTE: I'm totally down to take requests for this fic. If anybody has any ideas or suggestions for future chapters/situations... PLEASE let me know. Cause this fic is totally flexible for me. It's just about writing something fun during this not always so fun time. 
> 
> So feel free to leave suggestions/requests in the comments. No promises I will use all suggestions/requests. But, I'm more than willing to consider just about anything.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac and Stiles come up from the lake and listen to their boyfriends cooking dinner.

Mac followed Stiles up the hill, t-shirts stuck to their damp bodies, shorts still wet, towels hung around their necks. He felt like an eight year old kid again, his body humming with excitement despite the chill that was soaking into his bones with the lake water now that the sun was starting to set.

As they got closer to the cabin, Mac could smell the barbecue. There was no cooking meat smell yet, just the charcoal and fire smell that made Mac’s mouth water.

“I am going to eat so much food,” Stiles said. He looked to Mac and whispered conspiratorially: “Maybe even more than Derek tonight.”

Mac heard Derek laugh up on the deck.

“What’s so funny mister?” Jack asked loudly.

“Nothing,” Derek said seriously, the laughter already faded from his voice. It made Mac wonder how Stiles, so full of humour and levity could have fallen for a guy that seemed to always be serious.

Just in front of the deck that stuck out from the front of the cabin was a small rocky outcropping. The fire pit sat there, overlooking the lake. Old benches that had been there as long as Mac could remember ringed the pit. Mac’s grandpa had outfitted the deck in LA with a fire pit just like it. Some summers when they hadn’t been able to make it to the cabin, they would sit on his deck and pretend.

“Oh man, I’m freezing,” Stiles shivered beside him. “I’ll start the fire.” He ran over to the deck. “He Der! Toss me the lighter.”

Mac went to the pit and sat down at the benches, watching the sky start to turn colours over the lake. It was a perfect memory plucked from his childhood, and when Stiles started the fire, the smell only added to the nostalgia.

Stiles sat next to him as the fire gained momentum and the larger logs caught.

Mac looked at his cousin and didn’t know what to say. Too many years created a gap between them. And yet they’d bridged it in the lake, acting like young idiots together.

Stiles quirked his famous little grin. It was a grin that said so many things all at once. It was “I love you” and “let’s make trouble” and “how are you doing?” all wrapped up in stretching of lips and the appearance of dimples.

The fire crackled in front of them and they settled in to watch the sun setting and the fire glow against the rock and trees around them, the smoke trailing up into the night.

The quiet between them allowed them to eavesdrop on the conversation being had on the deck.

Derek was speaking, his voice serious like it always seemed to be. The guy was a bit intense for Mac’s liking, and that said something considering some of the secret ops people he’d spent time with. “Some people say that steak should be cooked in the oven,” Derek said.

“Well now,” Jack’s easy drawl carried on the night air. It was the opposite of Derek’s quiet, and elusive voice that seemed to be trying to hide from people. “I have cooked a few steaks in the oven. Sometimes you just don’t have a grill around, you know? And it’s good. I’ll give you that. But there’s somethin’ about the taste of a grill on a steak man. There’s nothin’ like it. Part of it is probably my upbringing. We cooked a lot of steaks over fires on the ranch when we were out with the cattle.”

“Interesting,” Derek actually sounded intrigued and not just like he was humouring Jack.

“Oh my god,” Stiles leaned into Mac and whispered hurriedly into his ear. “Derek is talking.”

“Does he not normally?” Mac asked in a regular voice, but leaned in toward Stiles conspiratorially.

Stiles flailed around, and Mac was glad to see that he hadn’t aged out of that particularly endearing attribute. “Dude! Getting Derek together with new people is usually a recipe for disaster! He doesn’t have the greatest… social skills.”

The conversation on the deck halted, and Jack said: “You alright man? You look like you just took a bite of an onion.”

Stiles was whispering, there was no way Derek had heard, right? Must have just been coincidence. Two conversations tripping over each other. It happened sometimes. Mac had seen some weird things like that happen during surveillance ops; things that seemed connected, like people signalling other people, when it was just coincidence.

“It’s Jack,” Mac said proudly, restarting their conversation in a quiet voice just to make sure they weren’t heard. “Everyone likes Jack.”

“No, dude, you do _not_ understand. Derek barely likes _me_.”

Mac laughed, and used his towel to dry his hair a little more before he laid it out on the bench beside him to dry by the heat of the fire. “I don’t know,” Mac said, “from what I saw this afternoon when we got here, he’s more than just tolerant of you.”

Stiles’ cheeks were red. But if it was the fire or the conversation, Mac couldn’t be sure.

“How did you guys meet anyway?” Mac asked to move the conversation to less embarrassing topics.

“It’s a sordid tale of intrigue and heroism,” Stiles said dramatically.

“I’m all ears,” Mac said with a smile, jostling Stiles with an elbow.

“Long story short, he showed up in town and me and Scott… you remember Scott? Yeah, me and Scott accused him of murder and my dad arrested him and it was love at first sight.”

Mac laughed. “Wow. I’m sure your dad loved that.”

“Well it took a long time actually…” Stiles’ grin faded and he stared into the fire, elbows on his knees.

“A long time?”

“Before we got together. After we met. It wasn’t so much a love at first sight thing as it was an enemies to lovers eventually five years later thing. So dad had a long time to get used to the idea.”

“Five years?” Mac asked. “Well, I guess it takes a guy a while to get over being accused of murder.”

“He didn’t do it, by the way,” Stiles said hurriedly.

Mac smiled and patted Stiles on the back. “I figured man.” But the body language rolling off of Stiles flipped a switch in Mac’s brain that meant he was going to run a full background check on Derek Hale using Phoenix’s resources when they got back.

They lapsed into silence again.

“How’m I cookin’ your steak?” Jack asked.

“Rare for me,” Derek replied.

“You know how your man likes his done?”

“Medium well,” Derek answered promptly. Mac watched Stiles smile and duck his head that Derek knew the way he liked his steak cooked.

Jack scoffed. “Well that’s a good way to ruin a cut’a meat. Pff... Medium well. Mac used to eat it all the way well done. I couldn’t have that in my house. I’ve worked him down to medium rare.”

“I would love to convince Stiles to try it more on the rare side,” Derek said. “But he’s stubborn.”

“I’m not stubborn!” Stiles called up toward the deck. “I want to eat something that’s completely dead is all.”

“I see what you mean about the stubborn bit,” Jack said conspiratorially but loud enough for it to carry to them. “I’ll get these steaks on. Why don’t you go grab the veggies? There's some carrot sticks and stuff in the fridge. We can eat by the fire.”

“Sure,” Derek said simply before his footsteps echoed across the deck and he slipped into the cabin.

Stiles sputtered and flailed again. “What in the actual fuck? Did he just take a request? Did my wonderful hard headed boyfriend just follow someone’s instruction with no argument? Who is this man and where is my boyfriend?”

Mac laughed. This was definitely going to be a good vacation. He could just feel it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requests for this thing will be open for the foreseeable future. So if a chapter suddenly gives you an idea, bring it on in the comments and I'll see what I can do.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys sit down to eat dinner. Jack's got a little jealousy going on.

Jack sat next to Mac at the fire while they ate, and used his legendary spook skills to observe their vacation companions.

They were an unlikely couple. Derek was serious and had the defensive personality of someone who had suffered in his life, and didn’t easily let people in. Jack had snuck right past that with his good ole fashioned southern charm. Which was great because seeing Derek Hale smile was a thing of beauty, and he couldn’t blame Stiles for going after the man. He was beautiful. Angry inside, but still beautiful.

Stiles on the other hand seemed so young. And yet he wasn’t that much younger than Mac. Which made Jack feel, more than a little, like a dirty old man. But Mac was a special case. He was different. It was a cheesy line, but Mac had an old soul. Stiles on the other hand, glowed with youthful energy, like a puppy. Jack still didn’t quite understand how he fit so well with Derek, but he did. When you saw them together it just made sense. Like two halves of the same whole.

Once they were done eating, Stiles set his plate aside and threw a leg over to straddle the bench. Then he casually wrapped his arms around Derek and pulled him close. Derek leaned back into the embrace, wearing Stiles’ affection easily, an everyday event, like putting on a sweater.

Jack was jealous. Mac had never really been a public affection kind of guy. And that hadn’t changed when they started a relationship. It was a bad habit to get into, being touchy feely in front of others; it wasn’t something they ever wanted to bring into the field with them. So they just didn’t. But Jack was a romantic person. Jack was affectionate. God Jack wanted to touch him all the time. And it seemed weird that he should have to feel like he couldn’t in their present company. Everyone knew the score. But Jack never pushed Mac. So he leaned toward the fire, elbows on knees and rubbed his hands together in the warmth of the flames, letting his knee press against Mac’s but no more. 

It ate at him though, watching the other two together.

“So, tell me about the first meeting,” Derek said with a smile.

Mac rolled his eyes, but smiled at the same time.

“First meeting?” Stiles asked.

Derek turned his head toward his boyfriend. They were so close. Jack burned with the urge to hold Mac. “Better story than ours,” Derek said softly to Stiles.

“I like ours,” Stiles returned with a smile, pressing his forehead to Derek’s temple.

“Oh it’s a good one,” Jack launched into the story to distract him from the casual intimacy between Stiles and Derek. It was a good story too. Meeting for the first time in Afghanistan, and punching Mac in the face pretty much the moment they met... classic.

Stiles and Derek were in stitches. Jack used the excuse of emphasizing the story to place a hand on Mac’s shoulder, mime punching his face, and jostle him playfully. It relieved some of the tension building up inside him and he relaxed back onto the bench next to Mac at the end.

Almost as soon as Jack finished his story Stiles looked on eagerly. “You were a sniper? Wow, that’s gotta be...”

Before anyone could drop the conversation off the cliff into PTSDland or talk about the stress of being in the army, Mac spoke up.

“He was Delta Force too,” Mac bragged, the pride in his voice almost bowled Jack over. “Led his own team.”

“I don’t know what that means but it sounds super cool,” Stiles said. “Some Jack Ryan type shit or something.”

Derek put on a thoughtful expression for a minute. “Well, Jack Ryan was a nerd at first wasn’t he? An intel guy? So it's not quite the same.”

“How do you know so much about Jack Ryan?” Stiles asked, tickling at his boyfriends sides.

"I read," Derek protested through laughter, batting at Stiles' hands.

“Well I’ve done a little’a that stuff too. The intel-type stuff,” Jack said. He didn’t voice aloud how much older he was than the rest of them, that he’d had plenty of life to do too many things.

“Ohhhh, does that mean you know a bunch of top secret government stuff?” Stiles asked, eyes flashing mischievously. “Come on man. Are aliens real?”

Mac grinned and glanced at him.

Jack had to bite his tongue to keep from telling them the story about the op where they’d gone to Area 51. After all, they weren’t secret agents with Stiles and Derek, they couldn’t be. Jack ran the security team at the think tank Mac worked at. That was it. It was a better cover than bathroom tile salesman at least.

“Let me grab us some beers,” Jack said mysteriously, adding a wink before retreating to the cabin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requests are still open.
> 
> Keep in mind: if you requested something on a previous chapter, I've still got it in my notes... I just might not be able to work it in RIGHT away. But I've got the notes!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles wakes up the first morning after their guests arrive, and Jack startles him.

Stiles woke up the next morning feeling pleasantly achy from swimming all day and from Derek waking him up for some fun in the middle of the night. He stretched and rolled over in bed to find Derek’s side empty. It usually was when he woke up. The guy was an early riser. Sleeping in was a foreign concept.

Stiles crawled out of bed, pulled on some shorts and a t-shirt from the floor and wandered into the kitchen to find the coffee already made. Derek always left a fresh pot on for Stiles in the morning, though he didn’t drink it himself. One of those little things Stiles refused to take for granted.

“Mmmmm, Derek I love you,” he said loudly to the empty room as he took down a cup. He’d taken to saying nice things to Derek even when he wasn’t around, you never knew when he’d be within wolfy hearing range. Stiles loved the idea of Derek wandering outside, maybe sitting by the water, maybe chopping more wood for the fire pit, and hearing little sentimental sweet things come out of Stiles’ mouth.

A clank near the back of the cabin startled Stiles and he almost spilled the coffee he was pouring. He was sure it wasn’t Derek. This time of day he liked to be out before it got too hot; wander in the woods or go down by the water, or get chores done around the place.

Stiles slunk back toward the laundry room, on edge. Getting attacked and/or kidnapped and/or almost murdered by supernatural creatures all the time will make someone edgy around unexpected nosies.

He poked his head into the room and found Jack stuffing the washer with the blue plaid sheets from the guest cabin. Stiles wasn’t surprised in the least that the sheets were already dirty.

“Hey Jack,” Stiles leaned as casually as he could against the doorframe. He’d been taking looming lessons from Derek, but wasn’t any good at it, he was too fidgety.

“Oh! Hey Stiles,” Jack said, stuffing the sheets more quickly into the washer. “Didn’t think you’d be up yet.” He put his body between Stiles and the sheets until he was done loading them. It was subtle, masked as Jack almost dropping part of it and having to turn to catch it, but Stiles had gotten really good at reading body language thanks to the pack.

Stiles almost laughed out loud at the hilarity of it, and then realized something as Jack closed the washer door. “Oh hey! Wait!” He set the coffee down on the little counter next to the beer fridge and ran back to his room calling over his shoulder: “I’ll throw mine in too!”

Stiles ripped the sheets off the bed and returned with them cradled haphazardly in his arms. Jack opened the washer for him and Stiles stuffed them in. “Looks like everybody had a good time last night, am I right?” He asked when he straightened back up.

Jack groaned, slammed the door of the washer, and let Stiles set the cycle.

“Well this ain’t embarrassing at all,” Jack said. “Don’t raz Mac about it, ok? I told him I’d be stealthy.”

“My lips are sealed Jacky boy,” Stiles said. He grabbed his cup and gestured to Jack. “Coffee?”

“Hell yeah,” Jack replied.

Stiles led the way back to the kitchen. “Speaking of Mac, where is my cousin this morning? Sleeping in?”

Jack laughed and leaned against the kitchen counter while Stiles poured him a cup of coffee. “Naw, Mac wouldn’t know how to sleep past seven thirty if his life depended on it. Unless he’s jet lagged or somethin'. I don’t know if he was like that before the sandbox, but bein’ in the military sets some habits in you that you’ll never be rid of.” Jack’s face went serious as he stared out the little kitchen window.

Stiles opted to break the silence as he held a cup out to Jack. “So where is he then?” 

“Went out for a jog. Said there’s some really good trails through the woods,” Jack said with a grin. “Asked if I wanted to go. But it’s the first day of my first vacation in years and I ain’t gonna work out if I don’t gotta.”

“Amen!” Stiles said, holding his mug out. They clinked them together like they were having beers instead of coffee.

There was a moment of silence while Jack sipped carefully at the hot coffee.

“So, has anyone given you the shovel talk yet?” Stiles asked, narrowing his eyes in his best intimidating look. He knew from experience of trying to intimidate people, and practicing in mirrors, that it wasn’t actually very intimidating. But a man’s gotta try.

Jack choked and turned to the sink to spit his coffee out in surprise. “Sorry?”

“The shovel talk,” Stiles said. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. And I know James is the shittiest dad ever, and Harry isn’t around anymore. So… did anyone do it? Or do I get the privilege?”

Jack smiled, and man the lines of his face just made him look handsomer. They should have aged him, and yet somehow they made him look more youthful, the way Stiles could see just how much he smiled made him seem young and mischievous. 

“Can’t say anyone ever gave me the shovel talk,” Jack said. “You’re right. James is an asshole. Harry’s gone. Bozer might have, but me and Boz were good friends before me and Mac got together.”

“Alright, well then, settle in. Because if there is one thing I’m good at it’s talking. Seriously. I could go all day man.”

Jack smiled wider. “I don’t doubt that a second. But you know that me and Mac, we’ve been together for years now, right?” He cradled the hot cup of coffee between his beautiful weathered hands. “I mean, it’s a little late for the shovel talk dude.”

“It’s never too late for the shovel talk,” Stiles said firmly.

Derek banged his way into the cabin through the screen door. He walked into the kitchen, looked Jack straight in the eye, pointed threateningly at his chest and said in a very cold, hard, emotionless voice: “Hurt Mac and you’re a dead man.”

Stiles watched Jack’s face go from happy-go-lucky and curious, to soldier in a second. He was reading Derek as a threat. Stiles could understand. Sometimes the way Derek could go cold still worried him from time to time. But he knew Derek’s history, knew where it came from. There was a darkness in him that would never go away but he still deserved to be loved. And man did Stiles ever love him.

Derek stepped back, and looked at Stiles. “There? Good?”

Stiles grinned at his boyfriend. “Yeah, I think that was perfect, thanks Der.”

“No problem,” he stepped close to Stiles and kissed him casually on the temple. “It’s a nice day, you guys should come outside.”

A look crossed Jack’s face when Derek kissed Stiles. If Stiles didn’t know better it looked like longing, or jealousy. He was reminded again of the fact that Mac and Jack didn’t seem to touch much, and wondered if that wasn’t more on Mac’s side than Jack’s.

Derek filled a glass with water, drank the whole thing and headed back outside.

“Well, he’s a bit intense when he wants to be huh?” Jack asked with a raised eyebrow.

Stiles grinned, knowing Derek would have heard, and felt his cheeks turn pink. He thought of that same reaction from every person that cared about him when he’d first started dating Derek: his dad, Scott, Lydia. “Don’t worry, he’s had multiple shovel talks.”

“I just bet,” Jack replied with a wink, but there was still a hint of worry deep in his dark brown eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requests are always open for this beast.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Mac go for a swim and talk about Stiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me a while to finish this one - life got crazy this week.

Derek headed back down toward the lake, thinking that maybe a swim was in order. Being around new people wasn’t always his forte, it tensed him up and made him defensive. He’d almost flashed his eyes at Jack in the cabin, and the wolf part of him was feeling restless. It had been a while since he’d had a good run. Well, only a few days really, but it felt like a long time.

He caught a scent on the air, putrid with sweat, and footsteps scuffed on the smooth dirt walking path that came through the woods. Heavy breathing followed, and he turned to find Mac emerging from the trees. He did his best not to wrinkle his nose at the sour sweat smell when Mac jogged up to him and stopped.

In the interest of being a good host, and being friendly, Derek waved toward the lake. “I’m headed for a swim,” he said, “looks like you could use one.”

“That sounds awesome,” Mac said, running a hand through his sweaty hair and throwing more of the sour smell in Derek’s direction.

Derek made sure to be upwind as they walked down to the lake.

They didn’t talk, but there was no awkwardness. He’d run into it many times when surrounded by the people Stiles cared about: they just accepted him, because Stiles did. After the threats subsided, of course.

They stripped to their shorts and waded into the water. Arm over arm Derek swam to the middle of the lake. He never let Mac get ahead, but he didn’t push to show off either, keeping pace with the human swimming next to him.

Before long they were treading water in the middle of the little lake, the day bright and sunny around them, reflecting perfect blue sky off the rippling water.

Mac watched the shoreline as though he were replaying memories in his head.

“There was a rope swing on that rock,” Mac said, pointing to a rocky outcropping not far from the cabin. “They took it down after Scott hurt himself one summer. Have you met Scott?”

Derek raised an eyebrow and rolled his eyes. “Oh, I know Scott,” he answered.

Mac laughed and it echoed around them, deep and hearty but not entirely honest. It was as though he was pretending to be someone for some reason. It made Derek’s wolf-senses prickle.

“That look tells me that you definitely know Scott,” Mac said. “Still an idiot?”

“Understatement,” Derek replied. He made a mental note to run into town in the next few days and pick up a rope to make a swing out of. It would be a great surprise for the cousins, and Derek was really getting a kick out of watching them relive their childhood together. Stiles deserved to feel carefree and young again. At 24 he shouldn’t have had as much weight on his shoulders as he did. And Derek knew some of that was on him, so he resolved to do little things to give him back some of that youth.

Stiles’ laughter suddenly carried across the water, bouncing around between the trees, followed by Jack’s deeper guffawing.

Derek and Mac exchanged a look.

“We should probably see what kind of trouble they’re causing,” Mac said as he lazily swam back toward the shore.

Derek followed, and then took the lead, but just a little. There were some instincts that just couldn’t be ignored; Alpha’s lead, they don’t follow.

They stood by the water, towelling dry.

“So, Stiles gave me the quick and dirty version of how you guys met. He said something about accusing you of murder?” Mac asked.

Derek let himself drift back to that memory for a moment. Coming upon Scott and Stiles in the woods. Threatening them. And all the drama that followed after. It wasn’t the best way to go about it, but then Derek had never been raised to be a leader, and making hard decisions never came naturally to him. He always seemed to make the wrong ones.

“Yeah. It was a misunderstanding.”

“Big misunderstanding,” Mac prompted.

“Yeah, I wasn’t great at... articulating.”

They stood in silence for a few minutes, looking out at the water.

When Derek didn’t add anything more, Mac spoke up: “Yeah, not like now.” He raised an eyebrow and grinned.

Derek smiled and gave Mac a look that said: fair enough. He could see the family resemblance more and more by the minute.

“You know Stiles,” Derek said, feeling the urge to share, which was rare. “Always running around looking for mystery and intrigue.”

Mac laughed a little. “Always thought it might get him into trouble one day. I hope you’re not trouble.”

Derek was trouble, but that wasn’t a secret he could share, so instead of answering Mac, he just continued.

“Well, he was seeing bits and pieces of an investigation his dad was doing that involved my family, and jumped to conclusions without all the facts,” Derek continued. “It didn’t help that I was…”

“Not articulate?” Mac ventured.

Derek nodded. “I’m a very private person. It’s hard for me to open up to people, even when I should. Especially when I need help.”

Mac’s face went solemn and he looked back out at the brightening day. “I know what you mean. It’s tough to admit you need someone else, when you’ve been independent for a long time.”

Another bout of laughter echoed down from the cabin.

Mac smiled. “We should definitely make sure they’re not getting into trouble.”

They wandered back up the path, Mac’s smell no longer overpowered by sweat. And yet, Derek couldn’t get a read on his emotions by scent at all.

Jack and Stiles were sitting on the deck; Jack swinging in the hammock, and Stiles kicked back in one of the old wooden chairs that looked like it was about to crumble to dust. They both had large glasses full of what smelled like strong alcohol.

“Who wants a long island iced tea?” Stiles asked. “There’s a pitcher inside.”

“Really?” Mac asked. “What time is it, like, noon?”

“More like eleven,” Derek added.

“There’s no time on vacation,” Jack said from the hammock, deftly balancing his drink while he swung back and forth.

“Damn right!” Stiles said. “Jack hasn’t had a vacation in like ten years or something. Let the guy unwind a little Mac!”

“Yeah Mac,” Jack added with a wink.

“Alright, alright,” Mac said, heading inside.

Derek followed. “I have a feeling those two are going to cause us trouble.”

Mac sighed. “I really think that’s true.” He marched into the kitchen, knowing exactly where everything was despite his years gone, and pulled two glasses from the cupboard.

“Oh, none for me,” Derek said. “I can’t…” He almost said: can’t get drunk. Which was true, but again not a secret he wanted to spill. He was getting too lax after being around just the pack so often.

“Can’t drink?” Mac asked. “How come?” He listened intently, sharp blue eyes watching Derek with real interest.

“It’s a… stomach thing…” he made up on the spot.

“Well, oddly enough, Jack knows some killer virgin cocktails,” Mac said. “Maybe we’ll run into town and grab some supplies and he can make you some. He used to make them when we couldn’t drink because we were on…” His heart rate increased just a little. A tiny moment of panic over something. A secret of his own? When they were what? Derek was intrigued. Mac continued as though he’d never hesitated. “When we were on the clock, at work sometimes.” Not a lie. But he was very focused on pouring his drink.

Derek poured himself a glass of water and followed Mac outside. As Stiles would say: his wolfy senses were tingling. Mac was hiding something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requests are still open


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek tucks Stiles into bed after a long day and sits down with Mac and Jack by the fire.

Derek tucked Stiles into bed. After sitting in the sun and drinking all day, Stiles was down for the count.

“You’re so pretty,” Stiles mumbled, already half asleep.

“I’m not pretty, I’m handsome.” It was an old argument, and one that usually brought a smile to Derek’s face. But tonight it just felt like he was rehearsing a bad play.

“Nope. Pretty,” Stiles managed before he fell asleep, mouth open and ready to leak drool everywhere.

Derek wandered back to the kitchen and stopped beside the pitcher of Long Island Iced Tea. He could smell it a room over, and the tang of the alcohol in it stung his palate. He couldn’t understand the appeal, but then it had never been an option for him. Born a wolf he could never get drunk.

Curiosity won out, and he poured a little of the pungent liquid into a glass which he tipped back slow to let just a little into his mouth. It was a horrible combination of too sweet and burning. He choked a little as he swallowed the tiny mouthful before setting the glass down and walking back out into the darkening day.

Mac and Jack had wandered back to their cabin. Derek’s wolfy ears picked up some very happy noises that included a creaking bed frame and some very dirty words. It wasn’t something he was keen to listen in on, so he turned toward the forest and took off at a jog.

Running always eased everything in Derek. His muscles stretched and relaxed as they were worked. The coiled tension that he carried in his belly eased and dispersed. His brain stopped working and overthinking every little thing and instead focused on the next step, even breaths, the smells around him.

He’d gotten to know the woods around the cabin quite well. Even before he’d been in a relationship with Stiles, he’d joined in on a few of the group trips out to the cabin. It was secluded and relaxing. Derek had never really been one for people. Living in New York had been torture. The woods were where he belonged; running with the other animals; being one with nature.

Derek pushed himself, stretching his legs further with each step, pushing his speed while he was alone.

When he circled around and got back to the cabin, he was covered in a sheen of sweat but he felt worn out and relaxed.

Mac and Jack were sitting by the fire pit roasting hot dogs for dinner.

Derek decided on a quick swim to wash away the sweat and did little more than dunk himself in the cool water before heading up to join their guests.

The moment Derek was close, Mac slid away from Jack, pulling a hand back from his knee.

“Hey dude,” Jack greeted with a lazy grin, looking limp and exhausted, and smelling of sex. “Sorry to jump the gun on dinner but we weren’t sure what the plan was and we were starving.”

Derek could bet he was after what they’d been up to. He shot Jack a little grin before he said anything. “No worries. I think Stiles is out for the night. Hot dogs sound good.”

Mac added a few extra hot dogs to the roasting forks and set them over the fire pit.

They sat quietly. And it was comfortable.

The sun left the sky, the fire lighting up their faces. Derek could smell Jack’s longing, could almost feel in the air the way he wanted to reach out and hold Mac. And yet he didn’t, when all that was between them was Derek’s presence. Mac was oblivious, the scents coming from him indicating contentment and satiation. Derek wanted to slap the guy. How could someone be so oblivious?

A noise trickled out from the cabin. Stiles’ voice. Muffled by rooms and doors and windows and pillows. But it sounded like the beginnings of anguish.

The shuffling of blankets and pillows, and more whined noises of pain and fear followed.

Mac and Jack sat quietly watching the fire, ignorant of the struggle going on inside; their human hearing just couldn’t pick it up.

“I think I’ll turn in,” Derek said, standing, trying not to be rude or abrupt.

The whines inside got worse.

“Awesome man, see you in the morning,” Mac said with a grin. “See if we can keep these guys away from the booze tomorrow.”

“Hey! It’s my vacation!” Jack barked with a laugh.

Derek smiled good naturally, trying not to grimace as Stiles’ nightmare noises intensified.

“See you in the morning,” Derek said before he walked as slowly as he could back into the cabin.

This was the other thing he hated about Stiles’ drinking. It wasn’t just jealousy that Derek couldn’t join him in oblivion. It was the way the alcohol seemed to bring the nightmares more often.

Derek crawled into bed with Stiles, the sheets already sweaty and reeking of fear. He pulled Stiles closed and rocked him gently until he woke up with a start.

Stiles pulled away and Derek let him go. “It’s ok Stiles,” he said into the dark. “It’s just me. You’re ok now.”

“Derek?” Stiles gasped. “Derek?”

Derek let his eyes flash in the dark. “It’s me Stiles. It’s really me. You’re ok now. I’ll keep you safe.”

Stiles fell back onto Derek, heaving in breaths of panicked air that slowed until he said: “keep me safe,” with a laugh tacked on the end. “Oh my big strong protector.”

Derek laughed, knowing it would ease Stiles’ fear. He ran his hands through Stiles’ sweat-damp hair. “Go back to sleep, Stiles.” He tried to sound grumpy, but he was just glad Stiles had come up out of the dream with no more than a moment of panic. Some nights it was so much worse than that.

“Yessir mister Alpha sir,” Stiles said as he settled on Derek’s chest, his breathing already getting deeper.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack goes for an early morning walk in the woods and comes across Derek.
> 
> Play fighting ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge inspiration credit for finishing this goes out to: NephilimEQ for making some adorable fanart of Mac and Stiles on the shore of the lake! You really got me excited about this again and now here we are!

Their room had no windows, but the light crept in anyway, waking Jack from a deep sleep. He was a little hungover, but he was a grown ass man who knew his limits and knew when to stop, so he wasn't hurting too bad.

He looked over at Mac, mouth open, hair in his eyes, sleeping peacefully. Mac was always dead to the world the morning after a good night of drinking. He’d still be up early, but he never got up as early as Jack no matter the occasion.

Jack settled in for another few minutes to just look at Mac. He felt a tug of want, to grab Mac and pull him close, or tuck the hair away from his eyes. But he knew it would wake him and he wanted to let him sleep. It was vacation after all.

Jack’s hangover was lingering in the back of his skull, but it didn’t dampen the joy he felt at waking up next to Mac. He did it almost every day and it never got old. Emotion choked at his throat, and he opted to get up rather than become an emotional mess.

He carefully rolled out of bed and dressed in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Maybe a walk through the woods would help to clear his head and rid him of the beginnings of the headache crawling up from the base of his skull.

He leaned in the doorway and looked back at Mac one more time. The sheets and blankets had travelled down throughout the night, his bare back and shoulder on display. His skin was flawless, and Jack knew from experience that it was soft and tasted… Jack shook his head to clear the lust away. What was it about being on vacation that had them going at it like rabbits every chance they got? They’d even snuck away with the excuse of getting changed from swim trunks the day before for a quickie. Rude, and very unlike both of them. It was probably just the fact that they never got vacation. Never had downtime. Never got to relax. There was always some threat looming.

He smiled at the thought of Mac sleeping deeply because he had nothing on his mind, no worries at all. Then he pushed off from the door frame, grabbed Mac’s hoodie from the front room, and snuck outside, closing the door silently behind him.

The morning was still cool, but the sun and cloud-free sky promised a hot day ahead. He pulled Mac’s hoodie on, loving the smell of Mac all around him. It was loose in the shoulders but tight in the chest, and it made Jack smile. Something about the way Jack carried himself, the soldier in him, versus the inner geek in Mac, always made people think Mac was smaller than Jack. Even seeing them stand side by side and seeing that Mac’s shoulders were wider, people were still always surprised.

The sweater also kept the chill of the morning away, and Jack was grateful as he took another deep inhale of Mac’s smell.

They hadn’t spent too much time walking around yet, and Jack was excited at the idea of exploring a little. There had always been a little adventurer in Jack. Probably why he kept on with the agent stuff years after he should have gotten himself a cushy little desk and some papers to push.

Several little dirt paths led away from the cabin and into the woods. He picked one that looked like it would run a little further away from the water. The path near the lake would be cooler, and he was already a little chill even with the sweater.

The path was worn smooth from use, the forest lurking at the edges, a branch darting into the way here or there. The sun continued to rise, leaking between the trees and spreading more warmth by the minute.

After about five minutes of brisk walking to stay warm, he heard it; the clunk of flesh against wood, and laboured breaths.

It sounded like trouble, and Jack jogged until he found the source.

In small clearing, a few rough fighting dummies had been put up; basically just discarded two by fours with the corners sanded round and slapped together in the vague shape of a person. Derek shuffled between them, practicing some sort of martial art Jack didn’t recognize. There were a lot of slashing motions with fingers splayed.

Derek stopped with his back to Jack. He wore only a tightly fitted tank and a pair of loose shorts in the cool morning. After all the effort he seemed to have been expending he wasn’t even breathing heavily.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Jack said, trying not to sound as though he been panicking only moments before, thinking he’d heard a fight going on.

Derek turned, eyes wide in surprise. “I thought you were Mac,” he said.

Jack frowned, and then remembered he was wearing Mac’s hoodie. The guy must have seen him coming and recognized the sweater. “Borrowed my man’s sweater that’s all,” Jack replied, plucking at the fabric. “What you up to?”

“Just a little morning workout,” Derek said.

“Huh, you want a partner?” Jack asked, already stretching his arms and starting to limber up. “It’s an interesting style you got there. Never seen anything like it. But I never met a style I couldn’t figure out.”

Derek smiled. “Thought you were just a security guard.”

“Ex military,” Jack said. “Don’t you worry I can handle myself.”

Derek’s smile widened. “Never said you couldn’t.”

“Alright, alright, just give the old man a few minutes to stretch out and then we’ll have a go,” Jack said, leaning against one of the dummies and stretching his shoulder. “It’ll be nice to have a sparring partner. Good way to burn off energy.”

“Yeah, it’s not the same with dummies,” Derek said.

“You and Stiles ever spar?” Jack asked, thinking of facing off against Mac in the gym at Phoenix. Some of his favourite memories. Especially that time with the blindfold.

“Yeah, I’ve taught him some stuff,” Derek said. “When you fight someone all the time though, they get predictable.”

Jack nodded, knowing that too. Mac had a few tricks up his sleeve, but when you’d seen them before you could see them coming a mile away.

“You ready yet?” Derek asked, and then tacked on: “old man,” with a smile and a raised eyebrow.

“Oh that cuts deep. Callin’ me an old man. I used to like you dude,” Jack said with a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good to go.” He gave one last stretch to his hamstrings, and took Mac’s hoodie off tossing it over the arm of a dummy before he stepped into the middle of the clearing, keeping light on his toes.

Derek jumped at him almost immediately, swiping at the air with open palms.

Jack dodged the blows, trying to figure out what style he was using. There were several styles of martial art that used on open palm, but this didn’t have the feel of any of them.

Jack played defence for a few more attacks, ducking and dodging and trying to figure out exactly what style Derek fought with. After a few more dodges Jack realized that Derek wasn’t fighting with any set style of martial art, he was fighting with instinct and instinct alone.

Using that knowledge, Jack ducked under the next attack and came up at Derek’s side, ready to land a blow. But suddenly Derek was turned toward him. Jack had never seen anybody move so fast. A man could fight however he wanted if he had speed like that. Derek gave him a little smack, indicating he’d won that round. He even grinned, the bastard, rolling his shoulders in a way that emphasized what a perfect muscled body he had all the way down.

Jack prided himself on not staring.

Jack was definitely feeling his years as he nodded and jogged back a few steps, staying light on the balls of his feet. Age did have its benefits though; Jack liked to think he had a little wisdom.

Jack started forward first this time, swinging with short controlled punches he never intended to hit with. Derek put his arms up to parry the blows. While Derek had his arms up, keeping himself safe, Jack dodged around his side. But just like the first time, Derek was turned in an instant, blocking Jack’s access for a hit, and landing a light touch on Jack’s ribs instead.

“Yeah, yeah, you got me,” Jack said. “One more?” Sweat was glistening on his brow already as the day started to get warmer, the sun continuing its climb above the horizon.

“One more,” Derek said with a grin and twinkle in his eye that looked almost red as it caught the early morning sunlight filtering through the canopy.

Jack was determined to win at least one round, and opted to bring in one of his best weapons: his mouth.

They danced around each other a little.

“So, you and Stiles, huh?” Jack said, barely listening to the words that spilled out of himself as he focused on the micro movements of Derek’s body. “How did that all come about?”

“True love,” Derek said hollowly, narrowing his eyes.

“You don’t say,” Jack offered. He leaned in and jabbed a few times, but Derek blocked easily before Jack danced away again. “So, what is it you do for work exactly, Derek?”

“My family... died,” he said. “Left me some money.”

Jack would apologize later, but in that moment all he wanted was to win. And this was the distraction he needed.

“Ah, so you’re just Stiles’ sugar daddy then, huh?” Jack asked.

Derek’s hands fell just the smallest amount, dropping his guard enough that Jack knew his distraction was working.

“Hope that money don’t run out any time soon is all I’m sayin’,” Jack said.

Derek’s hands dropped a little more. “That’s not... what...”

Jack took the opportunity and snuck in, sliding around Derek’s body and under the too-late impulsive swings to get behind him, jump on his back and lock his neck up in a loose hold.

Derek growled, an almost animal sound echoing off into the trees around them. Derek’s body was taut and hard under Jack’s hold. Did the guy have any body fat at all?

“Didn’t mean none of it hoss,” Jack said. “Just tryin’ to get one over on you. Sorry about that. You ready to tap out?”

Derek huffed out a large breath that was almost a laugh. “Does Mac know it drives you crazy that you can’t touch him in public?” Derek asked.

“What?” Jack wondered aloud, his hold loosening just enough that Derek twisted around and suddenly had Jack pinned to the ground.

“Two can play at that game,” Derek snarled, their faces inches apart.

“How about we just agree this last one was a draw, huh?” Jack asked. “Shake hands and be friends again?”

Derek took Jack’s hand and pulled him to his feet.

“For as much as Stiles talks,” Derek said, “I don’t think he’s ever actually tried to distract me like that while we were sparring.”

“It works,” Jack said. “In the army you learn to use what works.”

Derek nodded and turned back to the equipment as though he were going to continue on his own.

“Hey dude, I got a bit carried away, alright? Pride got in my way,” Jack admitted. “Apology accepted? And we’ll move on and forget about it?”

Derek turned back to him. “Yeah, alright.”

“Let’s head back and make breakfast for the boys. Whaddya say?” Jack grabbed Mac’s hoodie from the dummy’s arm and threw it over his shoulder, ducking his face into it for a second to take in the smell of the man he loved.

“Sure, why not,” Derek said with a nod. He followed Jack out of the clearing and back down the path.

“That...” Jack trailed off, nervous; he still didn’t know Derek that well. “That stuff you said about me and Mac. That obvious, huh?”

Derek smiled and looked through the trees toward the lake. “If I were Stiles I would say: your heart eyes are visible from space.”

“If you were Derek what would you say?” Jack asked.

Derek turned back and met his eye with a sad look. “I would say: yes, it’s that obvious.”

Jack sighed. “Damnit.” Obvious to everyone, but the one person who counts, he thought but didn’t voice aloud.

Derek didn’t say another word and they walked back down the worn trail with birds singing around them, and water splashing down along the shore.


End file.
